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Array
(
[sid] => 177803
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A twisted fairytale
[time] => 2014-02-18 18:15:54
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Curse the knowledge of what I truly have done to these women. Pieces. They are pieces. Picked apart by the crows, we are. The tears shed for what I did to the lonely heart of gold, that only desired to be held, will create the ocean that drowns me, on day. Men are the weaker sex. With the key word being sex. We try, only too hard, to please our own sexual desires, that we are crippled. Her heart will only see the climax of my body, and my body will only see the climax of her heart, full of love to give. But none received, makes the soul a tired, ravaged, being. Raped by the thought of a knight in shining armor. Males, such as I; we are worse than the monster under the bed, lying in wait, to frighten children. We are the more audacious of the breed. We are the monster that lay in the bed of lies, with her. We scare her, but she has grown, through media, stories, and the evolving world of "right now" that, you are supposed to be scared of what is to come. Little did she know, the man who would care for her was desperately trying to find his way in. But the allure of terror, and sin, beat him before the fight started. The classic tale, twisted, into an unhappy ending, again and again.
[comments] => 3
[counter] => 183
[topic] => 43
[informant] => TylerSpeaks
[notes] => To maintain the correct comment to poem ratio, please do not comment on your own work. Commenting on your own work does not ensure your reply will be seen. Your comment on this posting has been removed. You can send a private message if you wish to respond to another member. Thank you. Moderator_18
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 0
[ratings] => 0
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => oops
)
A twisted fairytale
Contributed by
TylerSpeaks
on
Tuesday, 18th February 2014 @ 06:15:54 PM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
Curse the knowledge of what I truly have done to these women. Pieces. They are pieces. Picked apart by the crows, we are. The tears shed for what I did to the lonely heart of gold, that only desired to be held, will create the ocean that drowns me, on day. Men are the weaker sex. With the key word being sex. We try, only too hard, to please our own sexual desires, that we are crippled. Her heart will only see the climax of my body, and my body will only see the climax of her heart, full of love to give. But none received, makes the soul a tired, ravaged, being. Raped by the thought of a knight in shining armor. Males, such as I; we are worse than the monster under the bed, lying in wait, to frighten children. We are the more audacious of the breed. We are the monster that lay in the bed of lies, with her. We scare her, but she has grown, through media, stories, and the evolving world of "right now" that, you are supposed to be scared of what is to come. Little did she know, the man who would care for her was desperately trying to find his way in. But the allure of terror, and sin, beat him before the fight started. The classic tale, twisted, into an unhappy ending, again and again.
Copyright ©
TylerSpeaks
... [
2014-02-18 18:15:54]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: A twisted fairytale
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Wednesday, 19th February 2014 @ 04:54:53 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| very good! beautifully written... thanks for posting :-) |
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Re: A twisted fairytale
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Wednesday, 19th February 2014 @ 06:05:31 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| All men are not like you. Don't look for sympathy in your writing. Get it right, and know that there is no weaker sex. They are equal, IN LOVE. |
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Re: A twisted fairytale
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Friday, 21st February 2014 @ 07:29:10 AM AEST
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a Message)
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Apparently my initial comment was not to your liking, on the grounds that it is your poem, and I should not presume to speak for you. On the contrary, it is you who seeks to speak for all men.
In fairness, I may have concentrated on the content with little regard for the writing. It's well written. |
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